


How To Read Your Best Friend

by alto (themorninglark)



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/alto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People always give Haru a hard time for being hard to read, but he knows better - if he’s hard to read, then Makoto, well, Makoto is just impossible.</p><p>Makoto is always watching out for him. Trouble is, Makoto is always watching out for everyone. It’s wired into his DNA, or something.</p><p>And that’s why he’s impossible to read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Read Your Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any fanfic in like... ten years! But the boys from Free! are just too adorable.
> 
> So, first piece of fic in ages and first step into this fandom. Please be kind! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Find me on tumblr: http://themorninglark.tumblr.com/

**Monday**

People always give Haru a hard time for being hard to read, but he knows better - if he’s hard to read, then Makoto, well, Makoto is just impossible.

“A strawberry one for Nagisa - “

“Mako-chan, you’re the best!” Nagisa lets out a joyful yelp and flings his arms around Makoto, dripping melted popsicle down his bare back. Makoto starts a little at the cold, but laughs and wrestles Nagisa off.

“Rei, blueberry for you - “

Rei takes the proffered popsicle, pushes his glasses up his nose, and thanks Makoto politely.

“And Haru-chan, here you go.”

Makoto turns to Haru with the last of the popsicles. Orange.

Haru is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the water, kicking idly. He looks up at his friend, shades his eyes from the sun. Makoto’s smile is gentle and wraps around him like a hug.

“Drop the -chan,” he says automatically as he takes the popsicle.

Makoto just laughs. His smile grows warmer, if that’s even possible.

Haru looks out at the length of the pool. He ignores Nagisa’s nonstop chatter behind him as he sucks on the popsicle slowly. It’s a hot, hot day, they’ve just finished a solid hour and a half of training, and even Gou has stopped yelling at them. She’s sitting under the shade with Amakata-sensei, stretched out on a deckchair with her eyes closed.

“Haru-chan, Haru-chan! Are you - “

“Hey, Nagisa,” Makoto interrupts him. “The twins showed me this penguin video yesterday, look…”

The sound of giggling behind him tells Haru that Nagisa’s been thoroughly distracted.

Good. Haru just wants to be left alone with the water. And somehow - somehow - Makoto always knows when he feels like this. He wonders if it comes from being an older brother. Would Haru’s life have been different, had he grown up with siblings?

Then again, thinks Haru, Makoto had always been all the company he ever needed. The brother he never had. Sort of.

He doesn’t have to turn around to know that Makoto’s eyes are on him. He knows it from the way Nagisa and Rei are debating the merits of strawberry versus blueberry popsicles and Makoto is quiet. When Makoto is quiet like this, it means he’s doing that thing where he takes a step back, smiles that maddeningly omnipresent smile of his, and just looks on to make sure he’s okay.

Makoto is always watching out for him. Trouble is, Makoto is always watching out for everyone. It’s wired into his DNA, or something.

And that’s why he’s impossible to read.

Haru finishes the last of his popsicle and gets up to toss the stick into the bin. He feels a sudden clinging at his leg, and frowns, knowing who it’s going to be even before he turns to look down.

“Haru-chan, are you coming to my birthday party?” Nagisa beams brightly up at him, undeterred by Haru’s complete lack of expression.

It’s Nagisa’s birthday? Haru’s gaze flicks upwards, towards Makoto, just for a split second. Makoto usually takes care of these things. When it’s someone’s birthday, Makoto shows up at his house in the morning bearing a present and a card, sticks it in Haru’s face and tells him to sign it once he’s out of the tub. “Because, Haru,” he always says, “you would never remember anyone’s birthday otherwise. Even your own.” And it’s true.

Makoto is in the water with Rei. It looks like they’re working on his breaststroke technique. Makoto has his back to Haru, and all Haru can see of him is the slow, deliberate movement of his arms as he demonstrates the stroke to Rei.

Haru looks down at Nagisa. “When.”

“That means yes!” Nagisa says, detatching himself from Haru’s leg and jumping up joyfully. His hair is still slightly wet, and Haru finds himself spattered with water droplets.

“When,” repeats Haru.

“It’s on Sunday. And I’m having it at the beach! You’ll love it, Haru-chan!”

A series of thoughts flits rapidly through Haru’s mind, in approximately the time it takes him to blink. It’s a testament to his regard for Nagisa that Haru would even consider going to his birthday party, which is sure to be full of outrageous stunts and excitable schoolmates, none of whose names Haru knows or cares to know. Nagisa knows this, knows that Haru hates parties like this and also knows that he’ll come anyway. Nagisa holding the party at the beach is like an olive branch, his way of making it better for Haru. And finally, Nagisa knows that Haru knows all this.

“Haru-chan? Haru-chan?”

Nagisa is waving a hand in front of his face, tiptoeing. Haru looks at him, and starts walking back towards the pool.

“Oh, good,” says Nagisa. “You got that look on your face for a moment. The one that’s like _I’m here but I’m not really here I’m thinking about something deep and dark or maybe just thinking about water, a lot_.”

Haru glances over his shoulder at the other boy. “What.”

“You know. This look.” Nagisa puts on an exaggerated, glassy-eyed expression, staring far into the distance, lips slightly parted.

“I don’t look like that.”

Nagisa sticks out his tongue at him. “You only have three facial expressions, Haru-chan. This thinky one, the bored one you wear the rest of the time, and - “

Haru reaches the edge of the pool, and dives in, drowning out whatever Nagisa’s saying behind him.

Really, thinks Haru as he glides under the cool, calm water, there’s nothing hard to read about him, not to his friends, at least. Nothing at all.

 

**Tuesday**

The next day, Haru remembers to ask Makoto. “Did you know about Nagisa’s birthday party.”

They’re walking home after practice. The sun’s less scorching today, and their shadows are longer on the pavement. Makoto is stretching his long arms languidly over his head. He slips into this posture often, and unknowing, as if he’s about to launch into his backstroke on land. When he does it, he’s all lines and muscle and fluidity, thinks Haru. It’s not a graceful movement. His best friend can’t be called that, by any stretch of the word. But it’s compelling, and powerful.

Makoto nods. “This Sunday. At the beach, right?”

Haru looks sideways at him. “Did you - “

“Yes, Haru,” says Makoto, with that small, knowing smile of his. “Check your diary.”

Haru reaches into his bag and pulls out a dark blue notebook. Makoto had given it to him on the first day of school. “I thought of you when I saw it in the store,” he’d said as he handed it to Haru, beaming. “It’s the same colour as your dolphin apron.” And it was.

Haru flips the diary open to this week. _Nagisa’s birthday party_ , it says in the box marked “Sunday”.

Makoto’s handwriting is not like the rest of him. It’s a little messy, a little uneven, a little askew, as if written by someone catching his breath. It’s always been like this: Haru with the neat, impeccable calligraphy, Makoto looking over his shoulder with a massive sigh and a _Haru-chan, how do you do that?_ as he struggles to keep his words from floating upwards off the line.

Makoto has used purple ink for this entry. It jumps off the page brightly, splotches and all. Haru doesn’t even bother asking Makoto when he fished the diary out of his bag to scribble this down. He’s always doing it.

“I wonder what we should get for him this year.” Makoto stares up into the sky thoughtfully.

Haru thinks about Makoto’s question, but says nothing because his own gift ideas are pretty much always limited to: Iwatobi-chan, mackerel and swim gear. That’s why he lets Makoto pick out all the birthday presents.

They walk on in that companionable, familiar silence.

“Goggles,” says Haru, eventually.

“Hmmm,” Makoto muses. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Haru turns to Makoto in surprise. He’s so used to having his best friend gently but firmly, in that secret, steely way of his, explain to him in no uncertain terms why his ideas would never work. _Gou-chan doesn’t need a swimming cap, she can’t swim_ and _Rei already has about ten different swimsuits, remember that time we went to the store and he bought all of them because, he said, he had to scientifically test them out in the pool?_

And yet, Makoto always looks delighted with whatever Haru gives him for his own birthday. This year, it had been a new bento box with a clownfish on it. Just like the one Makoto had picked out the first day they went to the swimming club. Makoto uses the bento box every day. Haru sees it, without fail, at every lunch break on the roof.

“Nagisa’s goggles are pretty old. I think he’d like a new pair. Do you want to go shop for them together?” Makoto asks.

Haru nods. He likes shopping for swimming gear.

“Tomorrow after practice then. It’s a date, Haru-chan.”

Haru looks sideways at Makoto’s gentle, steady smile. How is he supposed to tell what Makoto means when he says things like _It’s a date_ , if his expression never changes? He always smiles at Haru like that. Even if he were saying something as banal as _look, it’s a white cat_ , he would still be smiling at Haru like that.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me to drop the -chan.” Makoto laughs. “This is a first. I’m going to keep calling you Haru-chan from now on.”

Haru frowns at him.

“Don’t make such a scary face, Haru-chan. See you in the morning!”

They’ve reached the stone steps leading up to Haru’s house. Haru hadn’t even noticed. He waves back as Makoto raises his hand in a cheery goodbye and walks on towards his own home.

 

**Wednesday**

They’re into midweek now and suddenly, Makoto says he can’t make it to swimming club practice today.

“I’m really sorry, Gou-chan,” he pleads woefully, cringing under her wrathful gaze, in spite of the fact that he’s about a whole head taller than her and could probably out-muscle even her brother.

“Makoto-senpai, what is the meaning of this? We have a tournament in two weeks’ time and your times are not. Good. Enough!” Gou says sternly, waving her clipboard around.

“My dad is out of town on a work trip and my mom is down with a cold. I have to go pick Ran and Ren up from school and take care of everyone this afternoon,” says Makoto, looking at Gou with those sad, puppy-dog eyes that always make Haru say yes to anything. Oh, thinks Haru, Makoto knows what he’s doing. He totally does. Manipulative little -

Glancing at Makoto again, the thought dies. Apparently, he can’t even think anything negative about Makoto when his best friend is wearing that expression. It irritates Haru no end.

Gou’s brow is furrowed. She sighs. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped… but you’d better work extra hard next time, Makoto-senpai!”

“Of course, Gou-chan,” he says gratefully. “Thank you!”

Haru turns his back on the discussion. He walks to the starting blocks, ready to dive in.

“Haru-chan?”

He turns around to meet Makoto’s gaze.

“I’m sorry I can’t walk home with you today. But I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good swim practice this afternoon.”

“Yeah. Okay. Hope your mother feels better,” says Haru.

And with that, Makoto smiles that easy smile of his, waves and heads off.

Haru dives into the pool. The cold, comforting splash against his bare skin soothes him. He ripples through the water like a dolphin, staying beneath the surface for as long as possible. This is what he likes best about swimming. The cool, calm silence. No conversations, no interruptions - just Haru and the endless, vast expanse of blue flowing all around him.

He’s dimly aware of movement in the water as someone - Nagisa or Rei - jumps into the lane next to his. He ignores it and swims on.

“Your timing is as impressive as always, Haruka-senpai,” he hears Gou saying with satisfaction as he emerges from the pool, finally.

Haru shakes the water off his head and blinks upwards, hand reaching out automatically, but Makoto’s hand isn’t there. Of course. He went home. Gou is standing a little to the side, beaming down at him with a stopwatch in her hand.

Haru’s hand wavers in midair for the tiniest of moments before dropping down to the edge of the pool to hoist himself up and out. Something feels off.

After practice, he texts Makoto on his way home. _Coming over in five minutes._

He’s not sure if Makoto will see his message. When his hands are full with the twins, he rarely has time to do anything else. His suspicion is confirmed five minutes later when he rings the bell and Makoto opens his door. He looks surprised. “Haru-chan!”

“Drop the -chan,” Haru remembers to say this time.

Makoto laughs. “Yes, Haru. What are you doing here?”

“Haruuuuuu!”

Two hurtling, knee-height excitable bundles of unbridled energy come barrelling towards him and nearly knock him over.

“Are you here to play with us?” says Ran excitedly, jumping up and down.

“He’s here to play with _me_!” Ren retorts.

“No, me!”

Makoto gives his siblings that patented older brother glare and points into the living room. “Homework. Now.”

Ran pouts. “You’re no fun, Onii-chan.”

Ren looks up at Haru. “You’ll let us play, right? Haru-chan?”

Haru shakes his head. “Sorry. Do what Makoto says.”

As the twins troop off dejectedly, Makoto smiles at Haru. “They get so excited when you come over.”

“Nagisa’s birthday present,” says Haru.

Makoto’s eyes grow wide and he claps a hand to his mouth. “I completely forgot! We were supposed to go today! I’m so sorry, Haru.”

“It’s okay,” says Haru. “Tomorrow.”

Makoto nods. “Tomorrow, then. Here, come in.”

Haru takes off his shoes and walks into Makoto’s house.

He’d known quite well he didn’t have to go over just to remind Makoto about Nagisa’s present. He’d also known, equally well, that Makoto would he happy to see him, and would invite him in, and that at some point in the evening, he would end up cooking dinner for the Tachibana family because with their mother down, Makoto’s repertoire of dishes consisted solely of ramen with whatever meat he could find in the freezer. Makoto would protest, and fuss around him, and try to help, until Haru threw him out of the kitchen because he was really more of a hindrance when he got underfoot.

That’s how it always is, with them. There’s a warm familiarity in his routine with Makoto that is not unlike the comfort of being in the water.

He follows Makoto into the living room and sits at his usual seat on the other end of the table, taking out his homework quietly as Makoto kneels down next to Ren, helping him arrange all his crayons in rainbow-spectrum order. It feels like home.

 

**Thursday**

Makoto doesn’t make it to practice again today. _But I’ll meet you at the mall to shop! Let me know when you’re leaving school,_ he texts Haru.

“Maybe we should go over and visit Mako-chan and his mother,” says Nagisa, towelling himself off after practice.

Haru can’t think of a good way to tell Nagisa not to, so he settles for bluntness. “No.”

Nagisa frowns. “Why not?”

Haru dries his hair slowly and opens his locker, drawing out the action because it blocks Nagisa from his point of view, as he desperately cudgels his brain for some excuse. Why isn’t Makoto here? he thinks, irritably. Makoto always knows what to say.

“Ha-ru-chaaaan.” He hears Nagisa sidle up to him with an inquisitive note in his voice.

Haru takes out his shirt and ignores Nagisa.

“Don’t you want to see Mako-chan?”

“Saw him yesterday,” he says shortly, putting his shirt on.

“You went over yesterday?” Nagisa pouts. “You didn’t invite me and Rei-chan.”

“Spur of the moment,” says Haru, not entirely truthfully. He's pretty sure that Makoto knew, from the moment he left early, that he'd be seeing Haru afterwards. Maybe even before Haru himself realised it.

“You don’t want to go see Mako-chan again today?”

“I saw him in class,” says Haru flatly, staring at Nagisa.

“Haru-chan, you’re the worst.” Nagisa flops down dramatically on the bench behind them. “I’ll go with Rei-chan then.”

“Don’t,” says Haru, too quickly. Nagisa sits up and looks at him.

“He’ll be out. With the twins. His mother wanted some quiet in the house.” There. That’s not such a bad white lie, thinks Haru. He feels a little proud of himself.

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?” Nagisa bounces up and grabs his bag. “I’ll go home then. Rei-chan is waiting for me to go to the train station. Don’t forget about my birthday party!”

Nagisa waves and runs out of the locker room. Haru is exhausted after just that brief conversation with him. He’s continually amazed by how quickly and haphazardly Nagisa’s mind flits around. He finishes dressing quickly and texts Makoto. _On my way over._

Makoto is waiting at the entrance to the mall when Haru arrives. He waves as Haru approaches. “Sorry I missed practice again today. But my mom is better and my dad is coming back tonight, so I’ll definitely be there tomorrow.”

“Good,” says Haru laconically. He starts walking towards the swimwear section, a route through the mall that his feet know so well he could probably find his way blindfolded.

“I hope Gou-chan wasn’t too upset,” Makoto muses, falling in step beside Haru.

Haru shakes his head. “Gou understands,” he says. They all do. Looking after people - whether it’s his fellow swim club members, or his friends, or family - is just what Makoto does. No one, not even their draconian team manager, would begrudge him that.

Makoto nods at that. “I’m glad. Thank you.”

Haru shoots Makoto a sidelong glance, wanting to ask _thank you for what, exactly?_ , but the enigmatic smile on Makoto’s face is unreadable. If he asked, Makoto would probably say something equally cryptic, like _for everything_ or _oh, you know_.

Really, Makoto is such a maddening person sometimes.

They make their way to the swimwear section. Haru unconsciously reaches out to touch one of the new jammers by his favourite brand. Almost instantly, he feels a firm hand on his wrist.

“No, that’s not what we’re here for,” says Makoto, and tugs Haru towards the rack with the goggles.

Haru stiffens, then relaxes and lets himself be led, silently. The feel of Makoto’s hand on his like this makes him think of coming out of the pool.

“How about this.” Haru points, once they reach the shelf and Makoto lets go of him.

“Haru,” says Makoto, in that long-suffering tone of his, “you can’t just point to the first pair you see.”

“Why not. Goggles are goggles.”

“We need to think about what Nagisa would like!”

Haru makes an effort, he really does, but he’s drawing a blank. He doesn’t really pay attention to these things. “Strawberries.”

“Very good, but there are no such things as strawberry-flavoured goggles,” says Makoto, dryly.

Haru lets the remark slide. They look around for a while, Makoto picking out several pairs that all look about the same to Haru. “These?” He holds one out for Haru to see.

There are small penguins emblazoned on the strap. Haru wrinkles his nose. “Too cute.”

“Nagisa loves penguins,” Makoto points out.

“I think this is meant for children.”

“We-ell,” says Makoto, “Nagisa’s kind of child-sized…”

Haru gives him a look and shakes his head. He glances over at the next shelf. “Let’s get this.”

He points to a pair with orange-tinted lenses. The colour reminds him of Nagisa’s hair. 

Makoto picks them up approvingly. “This is pretty good. Orange is very Nagisa.”

“Bright,” says Haru.

Makoto nods. “You’re getting better at picking presents, Haru-chan.”

Haru opens his mouth, then closes it. Whatever. He’ll let Makoto have this one, since Makoto had just paid him a compliment. He looks away, towards the swimsuits, saying nothing, which he knows is the same as saying everything to Makoto.

Makoto’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, knowingly.

 

**Friday**

“Ah, Haruka-senpai?”

Haru looks up, slightly startled.

He’s sitting on the roof by himself. Makoto had told him, apologetically, to go ahead first. “I have some club stuff to sort out with Gou-chan. Entry forms and name lists for the coming tournament. We’re going to see Amakata-sensei, then I'll be right there.”

Rei is standing hesitantly above him. Haru looks around for Nagisa’s omnipresent, hyperactive shadow behind Rei, but there’s no sign of him.

Mystified, Haru pats the space next to him nonetheless. “Sit down, Rei.”

He doesn’t ask where Nagisa is. It goes without asking. Sure enough, Rei supplies the answer readily. “Nagisa-kun is staying behind with our teacher for a bit. They’re going through some physics problems.”

“Did Nagisa fail a quiz again.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“I wouldn’t say failed, exactly…”

“So he just barely passed, then.”

Rei nods with a slightly abashed grin. “Something like that. What about Makoto-senpai?”

“Club stuff,” said Haru. “Paperwork.”

“Ah.”

They sit in silence for a bit, eating their lunches. Rei, despite being the newest member of the team, and still a little bit on edge when he’s around Haru, is a perfectly companionable person to lunch with. He understands the concept of leaving someone in peace, which Haru appreciates.

Haru’s lunch is his usual: mackerel with rice, plus some vegetables that Makoto snuck in there in the morning when he wasn’t looking. Only Makoto, he thinks, would think that raw broccoli was an acceptable item to go with mackerel and rice. His best friend has absolutely no culinary sense whatsoever. Haru grudgingly concedes the point, however, that vegetables are good for him and he doesn’t have enough in his diet, so he stuffs all the broccoli into his mouth before Makoto shows up to see him doing it. He’ll be damned before he lets Makoto have that victory.

“Haruka-senpai,” Rei’s voice cuts into his thoughts. “Are you going to Nagisa’s birthday party?”

Why does everyone keep going on about it? “Yes.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Rei pushes his glasses up his nose intently and looks at Haru. “What present did you get him?”

Haru must have looked surprised because Rei grows flustered. “It’s just that… oh, Haruka-senpai, I have absolutely no idea what to get for Nagisa-kun, and you always give such great presents!”

Now Haru knows he definitely looks surprised. He’s almost glad Makoto isn’t around because he would have laughed his head off.

Rei is still babbling. “I thought it through scientifically and I made a table of the things that Nagisa-kun likes and I could only come up with useless items such as junk food, penguins, strawberry-flavoured things and horror movies… wait, maybe there’s some way to combine them…”

“Goggles,” Haru says, interrupting Rei right then before he pursues this extremely disturbing train of thought any further.

Rei smacks a palm to his forehead. “Of course. Nagisa’s are so old. How could I not have thought of that?”

Haru hadn’t thought of that either. He doesn’t even know how old Nagisa’s goggles are. When he’d made the suggestion to Makoto, he’d just been trying to think of something swimming-related that wasn’t the same as any of the other suggestions he’d come up with lately.

“Also,” he adds, to Rei, “it’s Makoto.”

Rei looks puzzled. “Makoto-senpai? What about him?”

Haru waves his chopsticks vaguely in the air. “I mean, it’s Makoto who always comes up with great ideas. I just follow.”

Rei smiles a little at that. “Ah, I see. Somehow… that doesn’t surprise me.”

Haru supposes he ought to feel a little offended at that, but he doesn’t, not at all. Although it looks to the entire school like Makoto’s always following Haru around, the truth is, it’s always been the opposite. Joining the Iwatobi Swimming Club as kids. Going back to the club that night they bumped into Rin. Visiting Samezuka. Taking part in the relay. Would he have done it if Makoto hadn’t been asleep on his doorstep that night? Haru doesn’t know.

He thinks back on that garbled voice message his teammates had left on the phone. There had been one glaring absence that stood out to Haru, bigger and brighter than all the other voices. Makoto's steady, calm voice. Makoto's voice hadn't been on the message. The only one not to speak. Instead, he’d sat there in person, waiting the entire night with Haru’s phone in his hands, his strong, silent, comforting presence telling Haru more than any words could.

“Haru! You ate all the broccoli!”

As if on cue, he hears a delighted voice from over his shoulder as Makoto sits down on his other side.

Haru turns away. “I threw it out. I don’t like broccoli.”

Makoto just laughs. He knows better. Makoto knows everything there is to know about Haru, can read him like an open book.

Haru goes back to his mackerel, a little sullenly.

 

**Saturday**

Haru’s phone is ringing.

He rolls over in bed and looks at the clock. It’s an ungodly hour, so he ignores the phone and tries to go back to sleep. But it starts ringing again, insistently, once it stops.

Haru picks up his phone and punches the speaker button. “What.”

“Haru. Meet me at the mall in an hour’s time.”

Of all the people to be calling him this early on a Saturday morning, the last person Haru expects is Rin. But it’s Rin.

“Rin. No. I’m sleeping. Goodbye.”

Haru starts to reach for the “End Call” button, but Rin’s commanding voice pours out of the phone like a torrent.

“I need help. I’m taking the Samezuka team’s first years to shop for swimwear and my vice-captain has flaked out on me. I can’t manage ten kids on my own.”

“Ask someone from Samezuka.”

Rin makes an impatient _tch_ noise. “Well, Sousuke said thanks no thanks, he hates kids, and Nitori is too busy training!”

“Me too, then. Goodbye.”

“What? You too what?”

“Thanks no thanks, I hate kids, and I’m too busy training. Goodbye.”

“You’re in bed right now. What are you training for? That doesn’t even make any sense, you idiot!”

“Why don’t you call Makoto. Goodbye.” Haru reaches to hang up again.

“I already did. He didn’t answer.”

 _Damn you, Makoto,_ thinks Haru. “Too bad. Goodbye.”

“I’ll take you to the beach after!”

Haru’s hand, hovering over the phone, pauses a little at this, but then he remembers that Nagisa’s birthday party is at the beach. “Already planning to go tomorrow. Goodbye.”

“Oh dammit, Nagisa’s party.”

“You’re going too?”

“Yes, yes. How about the pool? We can go to the pool at Samezuka after. Okay? You’ll get to swim in our lovely indoor pool without all the kids and members of the public at Coach Sasabe’s…”

Haru sighs. Rin seems really desperate, and Haru, in all honesty, has never been one to say no to a trip to the pool. “Okay. Whatever. See you.”

He hangs up before Rin can say anything, and rolls reluctantly out of bed.

It’s pretty boring at the mall. It’s his second time here this week, so he’s already seen everything he wants to see here. Even Iwatobi's biggest - and only - mall doesn't get new stock in two days' time. He’s just standing around while the first years all gawk at him like he’s some weird celebrity - _that’s Nanase Haruka, Matsuoka-senpai’s famous rival!_ \- and Rin is too busy herding them to entertain Haru.

“Haru,” Rin says. “Take Yamada and Kinomoto to the fitting rooms, please. I have to watch this rabble over here.”

There are first years sprawled out all over the swimsuit section. Haru walks silently towards the fitting rooms, and two boys start following him.

“Nanase-kun, how do you know Matsuoka-senpai?” one of them asks boldly.

Haru didn’t sign up for small talk about his past when he agreed to help Rin on this errand. He makes a mental note to ask Rin for extra favours after this.

“Swim club. Elementary school,” he says, shortly. Why are the fitting rooms all the way on the other side of the swimwear section, next to the kickboards? It makes no sense.

“Eh? Such a long time!”

Haru doesn’t dignify this with a response. He quickens his pace, weaving through the shelves, and the first years scurry to keep up. The talkative one pipes up again. “Were you rivals even all the way back then?”

The question gives Haru pause. Were they? The easy answer was yes, but that wasn’t quite it, either. Rin was Haru’s competition. _Is_ still Haru’s competition. But Rin’s also someone Haru wants to swim with. When he swims with Rin, he feels an exhilaration unlike anything else he feels when he’s in the water. It’s like the pool heats up around him. It’s not even that Haru wants to beat Rin all that much.

Haru has no idea how to put all this in words, and he doesn’t particularly want to make an effort for a kid he doesn’t even know. “Mmm,” he says, tonelessly, and stops in front of the fitting rooms. “Here. Go.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the wall as the first years head in. This is way too much human interaction for him, let alone first thing on a Saturday morning. He glances across the store at Rin on the other side. He’s gesticulating wildly at some poor cringing first year who appears to have made a poor choice of swimming outfit.

Every encounter with Rin is like a hurricane. He sweeps in and out of Haru’s life dramatically, drops bombshells and leaves, then comes back again when he’s least expected. Rin is so different from Makoto, thinks Haru suddenly. Both are special to him. He’s always known that. But it’s like comparing a crashing tsunami to a gentle wave.

He doesn’t think he could swim with Rin all the time. Now and then, in competitions, that’s good enough, thinks Haru. As long as Rin is there, as long as he can feel that thrill once in a while.

But Makoto - he could swim with Makoto at his side every minute of every day, for the rest of his life.

And that’s when the penny drops, and he knows for sure.

 

**Sunday**

“Haru! Ready to go?”

They hadn’t agreed to meet up before heading to Nagisa’s party, but Haru’s not in the least bit surprised, nonetheless, to find Makoto standing at his front door on Sunday mid-morning.

It’s such a familiar scene. Makoto’s tall, muscular figure framed in his doorway, that warm, sunny smile on his face, waiting, patiently, for Haru.

Surely something should have changed between them, thinks Haru, now that he finally understands he’s definitely in love with Makoto. But nothing feels any different. It’s as if this feeling’s always been love, all along, and he’s just only woken up and realised it. Like someone who’s been immersed in water all his life and just started noticing how clear, calm and soothing the ripples feel against his skin. The water's always been there. Like Makoto.

Haru’s always known he felt that way about water, but people are different. On top of that, he still has no idea how his best friend feels about him, because Makoto is always so damn nice to everyone else as well.

Haru is a straightforward person. Sometimes - often - frustratingly so, according to Makoto, who hasn’t enough digits on his fingers and toes to count the number of times he’s had to stop Haru from stripping and jumping into the nearest visible body of water. When there’s water, Haru wants to swim. So when there’s Makoto, Haru wants - well, Haru just wants him. He knows that now.  _I just have to tell him. Somehow. And see what he says._

“You didn’t have to come all the way to get me,” Haru says, more out of habit than anything else, as he slips on his flip-flops and locks his front door. He’s dressed in just his jammers and a T-shirt today. He notices with approval that Makoto is similarly attired.

“It’s on my way. Anyway, you’d forget otherwise, Haru.”

“Everyone has been reminding me about it this week,” says Haru, falling into step beside Makoto.

Makoto raises his eyebrows. “Everyone?”

“You. Rei. Rin. Nagisa about ten thousand times. Rei asked what present he should get for Nagisa.”

Makoto looked thoughtful. “I didn’t think Rei would have a problem picking out a present for Nagisa.”

“I think his problem was he had too many ideas,” said Haru. “And all of them were pretty bad.”

Makoto laughs. “Really?”

“Strawberry-flavoured penguin-shaped junk food in a horror movie,” says Haru.

“Haru-chan, I don’t even understand what you just said.”

“Neither do I. Drop the -chan.”

Makoto laughs. “Yes, Haru. How was your Saturday?”

Haru frowns at the memory. “I had to go to the mall with Rin.”

“With Rin?” Makoto sounds surprised. “Why?”

“He needed help. You didn’t answer your phone.”

“Ah, that was him? I was in the kitchen making breakfast for Ran and Ren. My parents were out the whole of yesterday. They took a day trip with some friends to the countryside.”

“Iwatobi is practically the countryside already,” says Haru.

“That’s true. But you know my parents, they’re such nature-lovers. So why did Rin call you out to the mall?”

“To help him watch his first years. They were shopping. He took me to the Samezuka pool to swim after that. It was nice.”

“I should have guessed he dangled a pretty big carrot for you.” Makoto laughs. “How’s Rin? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Makoto asks the question easily, lightly, but Haru could swear he hears something in his voice. Something which, as usual, he can’t pin down at all.

“He’s fine,” says Haru, shortly. “You’ll see him later.”

“Oh, of course.” Makoto nods. “Nagisa will have invited him too.”

The scene at the beach as they approach is utterly horrific. Haru feels like turning around and going home immediately. There are an obscene number of second-years running around, playing beach volleyball, lounging on towels, drinking punch, eating snacks, doing whatever it is that people do at beach parties. Nagisa seems to have invited his entire class. No, scratch that, thinks Haru. Nagisa seems to have invited the entire second year population of Iwatobi High School.

“There are a lot of people here, huh.”

As usual, Makoto knows exactly what Haru’s thinking, and as usual, Makoto is going to stop him from turning tail and running back home.

On cue, Makoto’s hand suddenly finds its way to the small of his back. The firm pressure there propels Haru forward, in spite of his heels digging into the sand. Haru feels himself grow warm at the touch. As sensations go, it's not entirely unpleasant.

“Haru-chan! Mako-chan! You came!”

Nagisa bounces towards them, beaming.

“Happy birthday, Nagisa.” Makoto gives Nagisa a warm hug, and hands him his present. “From me and Haru.”

Nagisa flings his arms around Haru as well. “Thank you!”

Haru has learned, after many years, not to reject Nagisa’s hugs, because it only makes him cling on tighter. He returns the embrace awkwardly. “You can open it now. It’s useful,” he says, pointing to the present.

“Oooh! How mysterious!” Nagisa shakes the small package curiously. “It doesn’t rattle. It’s quite light. Is it an Iwatobi-chan bread?”

“What kind of birthday present would that be?” Makoto says, chagrined.

“We can get that for him next year,” says Haru. “Cheaper.”

“No, Haru, bread is not an acceptable birthday present for anyone,” Makoto declares firmly.

Nagisa’s already ripping the paper off. He squeals in delight. “New goggles! I love them! I’ll wear them right now! You’re the best, Haru-chan, Mako-chan!”

“It was Haru’s idea. And he chose them,” says Makoto, smiling.

Haru casts Makoto a sideways glance. It’s so like him, he thinks, to give someone else all the credit.

“Ah, Haru-chan. That’s it.”

Haru looks down at Nagisa. “What.”

Nagisa’s tone is suddenly a little more serious, though a small, cheeky grin plays around the corner of his lips. “Remember when I told you you only had three facial expressions?”

Haru’s eyes narrow. He does remember.

“That’s the third one.”

“The third one,” Haru repeats.

“That’s the third one, Haru-chan. When you’re with Mako-chan like this.”

Nagisa winks maddeningly, and with that, he slips his new goggles over his head and hightails it back to the centre of the beach. Someone appears to have hoisted a pinata, impossibly enough, under a beach umbrella, and Nagisa is the first in line to pick up a stick to whack it.

“Ah, Haru… what is Nagisa talking about?” Makoto’s voice trails off. He looks mystified.

Haru sighs. He knows exactly what Nagisa is talking about. He wouldn’t have picked this time and place to do it, but Nagisa is a little devil.

“Makoto.” He turns to face his best friend. He doesn’t waste words. “I’m in love with you.”

The sound of the wind rustling through leaves, and the rhythmic crash of the waves on the shore, fill the sudden silence that falls between them. Haru is dimly aware of the chatter in the background and the sound of the party just beyond. But his gaze is fixed firmly on the sudden surprise in the bright green eyes in front of him, the gentle face he’s memorised over the years, the one that’s always been there beside him.

After what feels like a small eternity, Makoto’s eyes soften. His smile, if possible, grows even more tender. “I know, Haru.”

His strong arms reach out and pull Haru into a hug. Haru melts into Makoto’s chest, finding a spot for his head that’s just right, fitting his own arms round Makoto’s waist like it’s the most natural thing ever. And it is.

Haru feels Makoto press a chaste kiss into his forehead. He looks up. “You like me too.” It isn’t a question.

Makoto smiles in response. “Of course. Since always.”

“Why didn’t you tell me.”

This isn’t a question either. It’s a demand, and Haru knows Makoto knows it.

“Because, Haru-chan,” says Makoto, patiently, “you needed to figure it out for yourself. Especially now that Rin is back.”

Haru frowns. “That’s mean, Makoto. You didn’t give me any hints at all.”

“I had faith in you, Haru-chan,” Haru could almost swear he sees a smirk in Makoto’s innocent, angelic face. “I knew you’d get there in the end. And you did, didn’t you?”

“You read me too easily.” He buries his face into Makoto’s t-shirt, taking a deep breath and relaxing into the comfortable, familiar scent that is Makoto. “It’s not fair,” he adds, a little petulantly.

Makoto runs his fingers gently through Haru’s hair. “You know how many years we've spent together?”

“You're impossible. You know that.”

“Ah, well,” Makoto says, with a small smile, still holding Haru close. “I have to keep your interest somehow.”

Haru snorts in disbelief.

Makoto laughs warmly. “Also, I kind of knew you would just tell me when you were ready. Even if you didn’t know I loved you. That’s just how you are, Haru. I can’t stop you from going headlong for anything you want.”

“You’re really annoying sometimes, Makoto.”

Makoto’s response to that is to bend down and kiss Haru again, this time on the lips, and this time a little less chastely. Haru tightens his grip round Makoto’s waist, and kisses back with all he has.

He’s never kissed anyone before. Kissing Makoto isn’t really anything like the books and movies say your first kiss is. It’s not sloppy and wet. It doesn’t send a giddy rush of blood to his head. It doesn’t sweep him off his feet. It makes him feel completely relaxed. Like this is how it should always be. It makes him feel like he’s swimming. 

 _This,_ thinks Haru, as Makoto’s lips press softly against his. _This is what everyone in the books and movies is missing._

Makoto is the one to break the kiss. He reaches down to take Haru’s hand, and nods towards the ocean. “Shall we swim?”

Damn Makoto. How is it that even in the middle of their first real kiss together, he knows exactly what Haru wants, what Haru needs, at that moment in time, even before Haru himself knows it?

Haru doesn't need to say anything. Makoto's already leading him down towards the shore.  The endless, watery blue, the splashing waves, the far-off horizon and Makoto at his side -

_This is what it feels like to be free._

**Author's Note:**

> I see a lot of fics where Makoto is head over heels in love with Haru, but too scared to confess. While those are really sweet and enjoyable, this fic was my attempt to bring out a different side of Makoto, a side I think is also very strongly present in canon: the confident Makoto who's in touch with his feelings, understands Haru's just as well (he can read his mind, so I don't think it's that much of a stretch), and at the same time respects Haru enough to give him time and space till his less sensitive best friend catches up.
> 
> I also wanted to address the Rin/Haru relationship, since I see it as fundamentally different from Mako/Haru's yet equally important to Haru, and it's probably a real barrier that he'd have to break through to understand his own feelings for Makoto.
> 
> Finally, I like the idea that Haru would just go for it once he realises how he feels. It seems in keeping with his character. In the show, Haru takes time to figure out his feelings, but once he does, he doesn't shy away from expressing them.
> 
> TL;DR I wanted to keep this fic as realistic, believable, and accurately characterised as possible (based on my own interpretation of the series).
> 
> The next one might be more fluffy. Who knows!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Comments and kudos are gold <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr: http://themorninglark.tumblr.com/


End file.
